


That Isn't in the Rules

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-03
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fucker! Cheating!”</p><p>“Not being tall isn’t in the rules!”</p><p>“You’re going down, Colfer!”</p><p>“I’d like to see you try, Criss!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Isn't in the Rules

“So what are the rules, again?” Chris holds the Nerf gun in his hands, popping the barrel up and down against his palm.

“The rules are there are no rules.” Darren lifts his gun up to eye-level, squinting to use the not-remotely accurate targeting crosshairs mounted to the top of the gun. “Except no shooting below the belt.”

“Obviously,” Chris says dryly, readying his own gun and backing away a few steps.

“Ten…” Darren begins, taking a few steps back himself, and his smile pulls into a grin.

“Really?”

“Nine…”

“One, go!” Chris shoots at him twice, before quickly diving behind the armchair he’d conveniently positioned himself next to.

“Cheater!”

“Count downs weren’t in the rules!” Chris props his gun on the arm of  the chair, peeking over it to see that Darren is still standing without cover.  _Idiot_.

He fires and Darren squawks, laughing and running until he’s diving behind the side table and—

“You can’t hide behind a lamp!”

“Not hiding behind lamps wasn’t in the rules!” Darren counters, but then he holds up his hand victoriously and—shit. He has all the bullets Chris just shot at him. Then again, he doesn’t know about the spare bullets that Chris shoved into his pockets.

Now that they’re both behind cover, though, things feel like they’re at a stalemate. Neither of them moves—if Chris shoots, he might break his lamp, and he  _likes_  that lamp, and if Darren shoots, he’ll just be giving Chris more ammo.

“Maybe we should add a stipulation,” Darren calls.

“I don’t fraternize with the enemy!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Darren says around a laugh. “We should only be able to hide in one spot for thirty seconds. Otherwise I’m going to be crouched behind this table the whole time.”

Chris thinks it over. It would certainly make the whole battle more interesting.

“Okay, deal.”

And then he takes the thirty seconds to reload the seven bullets he’s wasted. Except distraction really isn’t good in a battle game, especially against Darren, because the next thing he knows, he’s being in pelted in the back with foam darts.

“Fuck!” He springs up to his feet, grabbing his gun and beginning to fire back. Chris lifts his into the air and begins firing down at Darren’s head.

“Fucker! Cheating!”

“Not being tall isn’t in the rules!”

But Chris is laughing, and so is Darren, and both of them know that, at the rate they’re going, they’re going to run out of bullets soon.

“You’re going down, Colfer!”

“I’d like to see you try, Criss!”

Except Chris doesn’t actually expect Darren to try. One minute they’re pelting each other, the next Darren is tackling him around the center and back into the couch. He hits it, winded, the gun falling from his fingertips (not that it matters—he was out of bullets).

“I didn’t mean literally!” Chris scolds, but he’s laughing so hard that it falls short. Darren grins up at him, neon orange darts stuck to his t-shirt and in his hair and it just makes Chris laugh harder.

“Not taking things literally wasn’t in the rules,” Darren responds, simply, and Chris pushes at his shoulder—Darren doesn’t budge, keeping himself firmly on top of Chris.

“Your face wasn’t in the rules,” Chris says, pitching his voice low to mimic Darren’s as best as he can, and Darren just laughs.

“Really?”

“Shut up.”

Darren shakes his head and then army crawls up Chris’s body until they’re face to face, his gun hanging off the couch. He’s still grinning, but it’s smaller now, as if he’s holding back a secret.

“I know something else that wasn’t in the rules,” he whispers, conspiratorially.

“Darren, there was only one rule—”

But then Darren presses his lips down, cutting Chris off while also effectively sucking out whatever breath was left in his body.

“ _Oh_.”

There’s a  _thwack_  and something hits Chris on the side of the head. Whatever dreamy expression Darren had just placed on Chris’s face turns to one of confusion, and when he turns, he sees Darren’s gun lifted and pointing at him.

“You seriously just did that?”

“I’d like to do it again.”

“I don’t think you can, I’m pretty sure you’re out of bullets.”

“Chris.”

He turns back to Darren, who leans in until his smile is nearly touching Chris’s lips.

“Shut the fuck up.”


End file.
